Ephemeral Expectations
by The Painted Green Door
Summary: AU. Sif didn't always appreciate Thor's antics. In fact, there was a time when she found his pigheaded behavior to be an insult towards the Asgardian race. Her dislike towards the blonde prince became the foundation of a very odd friendship with Thor's not so stupid younger brother…Very Pre-Thor.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note:** Welcome to _Ephemeral Expectations._ Before you go ahead and read, I'd like to address a couple of things:

1\. I do not own the MARVEL universe in any way, shape or form. This includes the characters as well.

2\. And while I did do some background reading on the characters and have decided to include some events that have occurred in folklore as well as the MARVEL universe (of course), the idea for this story is derived from my own brain.

3\. If this story isn't your cup of tea, please leave it unharmed so that some other lad or lass can enjoy it to its fullest extent. Thank you.

4\. The following Prologue is a Pilot Chapter of sorts. If it garners enough positive feedback/support, I'll continue.

5\. Also, please understand that in an ideal world I would be updating everyday. But that just doesn't happen. Sometimes I go for a month without updating and other times I update three days in a row. My schedule is very random-you can ask anyone who reads my other MARVEL story _Trading Cards,_ they will testify for me. Please endure with me when it comes to my rather nonspecific schedule ways. Thank you.

I think that about sums it up so sit back, relax, and enjoy _Ephemeral Expectations._

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 **Please note** that this story takes place during Thor, Loki and Sif's childhood years. And while I do completely agree that it's hard to draw a line between their childhood and adulthood phases (since their supposedly over 1,000 years old), please bear with me.

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 **EPHEMERAL EXPECTATIONS**

 **By: The Painted Green Door**

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 **Prologue:**

* * *

 **Year 976:**

* * *

She bristled.

If Anger could be personified she would be the ideal image, the perfect candidate: the sun's rays seemed to set her golden hair aglow-each strand blazing as her slender childish hands were clenched by her sides-knuckles white from the amount of fury that ran through her bloodstream. To add upon the effect, her brown eyes crinkled from the sheer hatred that was portrayed in them, while her cheeks had (unfortunately) sprung a shade of deep fiery red.

She was Anger in the flesh.

"It's only common knowledge Sif. I don't know why you're so offended by it." Thor boasted, not seeming to care in the slightest that the girl before him was beyond irritated. Perhaps he didn't notice how her teeth were clenched or the heat that seemed to radiate off her skin, (after all, he wasn't the most observant person) for instead of comforting her he decided to carry on, "Girls can't be fierce warriors- _everybody_ knows that. Girls do girlish things, but _I'm-I'm_ going to be the greatest warrior of all time."

He then tossed his head, his blonde hair flopping as he straightened up into a proud heroic pose.

A mistake.

Raw anger finally exploded in her as she instantly swung her fist at his jaw-a true hit. Not enough to make him loose his balance, but enough to wake him up from his idiotic daydream. She immediately retracted, taking a few steps back as she watched his eyes widen in surprise-in astonishment.

She gasped as if she had suddenly ran the perimeter of Asgard's borders while her eyes stung from rage. She took a moment to catch her breath, not caring that he was rubbing his jaw from the sudden impact that was caused by her fist.

"I hate you Thor Odinson."

She swung herself around, marching off in a random direction. Sif didn't care where she ended up as long as it was away from him.

 _"_ _Pathetic."_ She thought as a wave of annoyance crashed against her. She made sure her ears were at their best, since she was somewhat curious (read: desperate) at whether he would try to come after her. Letting out a small sigh she exited the courtyard where they were playing only moments ago, and made a sharp turn towards one of the neighboring courtyards. If she was in a calmer mood she would have it wasn't an ideal location if she wanted to get away from him, but instead, she was still fuming.

 _"_ _He doesn't even try to apologize."_ She mused silently, huffing slightly at the thought. She tilted her chin upwards as she entered the seemingly desolate area. It was of no importance to her if she was friends with the pigheaded boy. She was better off without him anyway.

"I don't really care for him in the first place." She said harshly.

"Who?"

Startled, she tripped over her skirts and landed on the hard ground-pieces of gravel digging into the palms of her hand. She successfully stifled a cry as she met eyes with a pale faced boy who was hiding near the base of a wiry old tree in the corner of the walled courtyard. She frowned as humiliation started to set in, but then ignored the feeling. Sif wasn't a genius but she was smart enough to realize that she had seen this figure lurking at a distance from time to time when she and Thor played together.

 _"_ _The brother."_ A voice whispered in her mind. She pursed her lips, not interested in dealing with another descendant of the line of Odin. But then manners kicked in, and she realized grudgingly that she should at least say _something_.

"Hullo." She finally said, not remembering his name.

There. She had done it. She had said _something_ to him. Now all she had to do was excuse herself and run indoors where she would be safe from blockhead boys.

"Who were you talking about?" he asked, not bothering to return her greeting. He stretched his arms leisurely before placing them behind his head, creating the picture of someone who was cool and collected. As if he had all the time in the world.

"Thor." She found herself spitting out. She didn't know why she replied.

The girl watched as his green eyes (or were they blue? Sif settled the issue by declaring to herself that it was a mixture of the two colors) studied her cautiously. His eyebrows were arched in surprise as he stared at her. She shifted uncomfortably on the ground and found herself running her delicate hands in her tresses with anxiety.

He finally opened his mouth to reply, "Everyone loves my brother. He's the favorite, you know." He said this in a rather dull tone but Sif could hear the bitter, acidic tone underneath.

She shook her head in disagreement, "I don't like him." She paused, taking a deep breath before she ranted, "He's egotistical, and pigheaded-he isn't very bright."

Humor flickered in his eyes as he stood, slowly making his way towards where she was before halting. His blue black hair glinted in the sun for a moment-then it was over. A cloud had blocked the large star. He looked down at her, "Are you saying you favor intelligence over brute strength?"

She pondered his question carefully, dissecting each word before she lamely replied, "I suppose so. I think intelligence is needed in a king-your father is very wise. He knows when to push onwards, and when to compromise."

In the end she was proud of her answer. She wondered if her parents would have been pleased at her words. She nervously (not that she would admit it) watched for any signs of displeasure on the boy's face.

He then replied, sneering somewhat, "Are you stupid? I heard _girls_ are stupid."

"No." she said hotly, clenching her hands into fists. Her nails dug into the palms of her skin as she tried to wrap her mind around the pure nerve he seemed to possess. He must have a great deal of guts since he asked so bluntly. She tried to say something else to add to her response, "Are you?"

"No." he replied steadily, clearly unfazed at her question. His eyes seemed to penetrate her own for a millennium. She refused to look away.

Eventually, the corners of his lips curved upwards-resulting in something that she supposed could be classified as a smile. He held out his hand, a gesture to help her up from where she currently was. She graciously took it, appreciating at how he seemed to easily pull her off the ground with a strong tug of their clasped hands (even though he looked rather skinny and frail for his age).

"Alright, I can tell you aren't stupid." He paused for a moment as if he silently reached a decision, "I suppose we can be friends." He admitted before placing his other hand on hers-her right hand sandwiched by his two. Bewildered, she could only stare as he smiled brilliantly, his teeth glimmering white.

"I'm Loki."

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 **Note: Leave some love? Review?**

Much love,

 _The Painted Green Door_


	2. Chapter One

**One:**

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 **Year 976:**

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With summer coming to a close, the leaves began changing ever slowly to brilliant shades of burnt yellows and ravishing reds. The temperature remained rather agreeable as did the weather, although on one particular day it turned out to be rather dreary. The skies turned a rather voluminous slate gray, and Sif suspected it would rain at any given moment. Thunder rumbled threateningly throughout the skies, giving her confirmation. It was with this conclusion that directed her eyes from the sky and towards her companion who was ahead of her.

"Loki, don't you think we should be heading in soon?" she inquired, hurrying her pace to catch up with the prince.

He disregarded her completely, not giving her the slightest indication that he had heard her-or noticed her. She frowned at his lack of attention but chided herself to keep quiet. As much as she wanted to go inside, she knew that Loki must be in the middle of thinking about something quite important and so she didn't want to interrupt his thought process.

 _"_ _After all,"_ she thought with a twinge of pride as she studied the back of the pale skinned boy, " _he was rather smart. Much smarter than his brother."_

"Oi! You're hurting me!"

"Oh stop being a ninny!"

"OW-you did that on purpose!"

It was because of this small chorus of voices that Loki slowed his pace down considerably, looking behind him to signal to Sif to follow his lead. Stealthily, the raven haired prince darted behind a wide base of a nearby tree and crouched low to the ground. Sif, curiosity eating away at her, loyally followed him.

A small gust of wind ran through the gardens and Sif shivered slightly. She glanced towards the sky again, ignoring the spine chilling feeling that she obtained when another round of thunder was sent rumbling across the clouds.

"You're too close." Her companion complained, "Your hair keeps hitting me."

She looked at Loki, mumbling an apology as she edged away from him a couple of inches. Running her fingers through her prized locks she then observed what Loki was actually doing. Not one for snooping, but inquisitive all the same, she crawled to get a better look from what was actually in front of the tree.

Her eyes were presented with a scene of rowdy boys, all of them tumbling and rolling about as if they were swine in mud. She wrinkled her nose as they screeched with laughter and hit each other, wrestling to their hearts content.

"Thor. Fandral. Volstagg. Hogun." Loki stated under his breath. Sif wasn't sure whether or not he was talking to her or merely to himself. She kept quiet as she drank in the scene. Even though she was still upset with the blonde haired prince of Asgard, her heart tugged a little at the sight of Thor having so much fun. He obviously didn't miss her presence. A feeling like fire rushed through her veins as her hands evolved into fists, her nails digging into the palms of her hands. If he wasn't going to apologize then the least he could do was miss her.

She fumed and directed her attention towards the tree branches. The delicious sight of beautifully blushing plump apples greeted her. Her mouth watered at the thought of climbing up and snatching one. How wonderful it would taste. Of course this was a ridiculous thought. The few branches with apples were so high that it would be quite dangerous to even attempt climbing-

"If your hair keeps touching me I swear I'll-I'll shave it all off your head." Loki hissed, his eyes now glued on her. Sif stumbled backwards, not expecting such a wave of anger from someone who she thought was a _friend_. She opened her lips to retort, to return such a comment but then clenched her teeth and kept silent. Seeming satisfied, the boy then resumed spying on the group of friends who were still romping around.

Once Sif was sure that her _friend_ wasn't paying attention she allowed the tears that were threatening to form. They ran down her cheeks gracefully as she sniffled. No one had ever spoke or insulted her like Loki had just done. Her hair was her most prized quality. Many admired how her locks seemed to be as if from the Sun itself-each hair spun from gold. For him to _insult_ her hair…

"For Odin's sake, are you crying?" Loki asked, his voice in disbelief. Sif peered up at him and he looked at her, studying her. For one moment he looked almost apologetic, but then any sign of him feeling remorse was instantly replaced with disgust. His pink lips thinned out to a vicious smirk that struck a chord of fear in Sif.

"Girls really are stupid," he sneered, almost laughing. It was with this last comment that he pushed her away, making her tumble out of the hiding spot behind the tree and into plain sight of the group of playmates.

As if a sudden spotlight had been thrown on her, the boys stopped their actions and gawked at her.

"Is that a _girl?_ " Fandral asked finally.

"So what if I'm a girl?" Sif asked as she got up and brushed herself off. She then put her hands on her hips, portraying a more masculine stance. She stared at them, waiting for them to say something but the group seemed to be at a loss of words, not knowing how to deal with such a situation.

Eventually Hogun spoke up, "Come on, let's go play inside."

Sif huffed and stalked off in the opposite direction, completely forgetting that a certain prince was still hiding behind the trunk of a nearby tree, watching the whole interaction. Instead, she was preoccupied with her thoughts and wanted nothing more than to get away from _boys._

It was a shame that Sif did not watch the boys run off to go indoors, for if she had, she would have seen Thor glance back and hesitate before joining the trio.

* * *

After dinner in the Great Hall, Sif wandered the passageways desiring to be left alone with her own devices. It was because of this desire that when she heard a familiar voice calling her name she sped up her pace, wanting to escape.

"Sif, wait!"

Knowing that he knew all the passageways better than she, and that he could probably find a shortcut and block her off at some point, she slowed her gait. Glancing behind her she was surprised to find that Loki was closer than she had assumed. Panting a little as if he had run some far distance, he took a few more steps to close the gap between them.

She blinked at him.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

Silence ensued.

"I'm sorry." He blurted out, revealing an apple from behind his back and shoving it in front of her nose. Shocked, she gently clasped her fingers around the apple, taking ahold of it. The fruit was even more beautiful than she saw it this morning. The question of how he was able to manage such a task arose in her mind. She looked at Loki in admiration.

"Say something." He demanded, grumbling as looked away as if he was disinterested. If it had been better lighting she would have seen that his cheeks had a slight pale pink tint to them.

"I'm still upset at you." She admitted after a few moments. She looked at him with cautious eyes for a second before examining the beautiful piece of fruit in her hands.

"That's fine. As long as you don't _hate_ me." He replied almost eagerly, "I don't think I could bear it if you hated me."

The sudden change of attitude made Sif puzzled but she didn't voice her concern. Instead, shook her head, "I don't think I could hate you," she paused briefly, "even though your words were rather mean."

"I _am_ sorry Sif. Friends?" he proposed. His eyes held hope and anticipation, and somehow that made Sif's stomach churn nervously. As if suddenly there were butterflies residing there. She rather hate the feeling and wanted such a sensation to stop.

Her grasp on the apple tightened, her knuckles turning an unnatural white before she made herself swallow and take a breath of air. Wanting this sickish feeling to stop she then nodded her head in a rather terse manner:

"I suppose so."

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 **Note:** I'm terribly sorry about the ridiculously long delay. It's been nearly a year and I am ashamed that I haven't updated sooner. Thank you so much for all the support you guys have shown me! I really appreciate it! On a lighter note, what do you think about Loki and Sif? Is he truly sorry? And what about Thor? Do you think he misses Sif? **Leave your thoughts in a review! I love reading what you dear readers think, and they certainly brighten up my day-not to mention that they encourage me to keep writing.**

Much thanks,

 _The Painted Green Door_


	3. Chapter Two

**Note:** I know it has been so long since my last update, I am terribly sorry for that. If it makes it any better, I think this chapter is a little bit longer than the previous one. Thank you for everyone for the kind words, follows, and favorites that you have shown me and this story, this is such a wonderful supportive community. I hope you enjoy this next installment.

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 **Two:**

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 **Year 976:**

* * *

With summer over meant that academics were once again in full swing much to the dismay of all the children who resided in Odin's realm. Sif had found at a very young age that she absolutely disliked the tutors and the dismal, boring subjects. She would have rather stayed outside and go exploring with her friend and new companion, Loki.

But she attended her academic sessions nevertheless (as any dutiful daughter would have done) which turned out to be both slightly more pleasant, and slightly more painful than her past years of schooling.

The young girl still perceived the subjects that she was being taught outrageously dull, with astronomy and history being the worst of her two subjects. The sessions were still quite small due to the fact that the tutors were only there to instruct those who were either close to the royal family or were actual royalty. And so, nothing changed in terms of the actual academic material. No, it was the fact that Thor and his trio of his companions seemed to at some point solidified their friendship and did everything together. And poor Sif had no choice but to witness how Thor and the boys laughed and horseplayed around the halls.

But on the other hand, Sif was not completely lonely. She and Loki had become fast friends ever since he had gifted her with a delicious plum apple. He seemed eager to be in her company, sitting beside her during every lesson and walking with her wherever she dared to go. She had at first found his constant presence overwhelming, but eventually found it natural and calming. Yes, they were truly the best of friends.

It was during one of their outings that trouble began. Loki's frame was leaning against the base of a rather large and regal looking tree, his eyes closed as he took a moment of small rest. Sif on the other hand was having a splendid time wading in the small brook that was just only a few feet away from where Loki was – although she would have had even a _more_ splendid time if Loki had joined her.

She decided to try one more time to convince him, "Loki, are you sure you don't want to join me? We could perhaps play a game." She waded closer to him, enjoying the sensation of water running past her and the smooth cool stones that touched the bottoms of her feet. The hem of her dress (that her mother insisted she wear) clung to just below the knees, and the flowers that she had put in her hair (not because she considered herself very feminine, but because they were in the height of their bloom and it would be foolish not to take the chance to use them) kept dropping into the water before being carried gently off by the current. Her golden hair shone brilliantly in the dying sunlight, and somehow she felt ethereal. And for some reason she wanted Loki to notice her, in all her faerie-ness.

He opened one eye, as if curiosity took a better hold of him, and then stretched like some agile cat, "No, Sif. Not today." He paused as if a wonderful thought had suddenly struck him, "Would you like an apple today?"

She chewed the bottom of her lip, unsure of how to answer. Oh how she ached for a delicious plum apple, and the seasons were just right for one! The blonde imagined how sweet the flavor would be! Yet, she had her reservations that did not allow her to say yes. She often found herself worried about his safety, for he often climbed so high up that he would be shrouded from sight. The branches and leaves would hide him for a great while until he eventually made his way back down.

Yet as she opened her mouth to give her reply, she already found him climbing up the trunk of the tree that he had rested against only a mere moment ago. She chewed on the bottom of her lip out of nerves, but then turned her attention back to the smooth stones in the brook. She enjoyed the laughing noise that the water produced, the beautiful ripples that were ever present in the sparkling water, and how the flowers from her hair floated to some greater destination.

"Sif."

She stumbled, not expecting to hear a voice – _his_ voice so soon. She looked up wildly, her own eyes meeting his own. She wondered how she looked. Did she still look like she had some element of faerie in her, or did she look like some frightened animal that had been caught in a trap and was awaiting the kill? She found herself wondering what she looked like through his eyes. Did he think she was foolish, just like any other girl their age?

The young blonde boy looked rather awkward as he shifted his weight from foot to foot, acclimating to the cool water that they were both standing in. At that moment in time he didn't look like the confident future king that he usually was. No, he looked unconfident, and at unease.

She reminded herself that she was still upset at him and plastered a scowl on her face, her eyes narrow as she regarded his presence, "What do you want?" She said this in a slightly more acidic tone that she intended to, but she carried on nevertheless, "Did Fandral, Volstagg, and Hogun become sick of you?"

For a second Sif regretted her biting and harsh words, for she saw the hurt that flashed in his eyes, but then the hurt was gone. Thor shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment before speaking, "I left them. They can be really annoying when they want to be."

She wasn't sure what to make out of his response. How should she respond? Sif felt a wave of uncertainty wash over her as she attempted to make some response, "Oh." She then pursed her lips, reminding herself that he never apologized for his words, "Well, you _can't_ play with us."

She wanted this conversation to be over. It made her feel quite unwell to be speaking with someone who she once considered to be a friend. She took a step away from him, trying to remove herself from his presence. Where was Loki? Sif opened her mouth to excuse herself but as she did, the once overly confident young boy grabbed her wrist producing a warm feeling to wash over Sif. It was a quite better feeling than the previous nauseous wave that she felt, but it still made her uncomfortable.

"Sif," he said, looking at her with bright and eager eyes, "I _am_ sorry about what I said, really I am!" He paused as if he was unsure if he should continue or not, "But it was months ago – can't we put that behind us?" Another pause as if he was debating whether to say these next words, "I really miss you, Sif. It's not the same without you."

For some odd reason this made her heart pound against her chest, and she hated the sensation. It scared her. She found the feeling absolutely stifling, and wanted nothing more than to shout at him. Yet, the gentleness that she found in his eyes made her reconsider. The harsh words she wanted nothing more than to say to him died on her lips, and any malice she felt towards him drifted away like the flowers from her hair that dropped into the brook.

And suddenly, she found her own two hands holding his own two, "Thor, I miss you too-"

She felt a sudden burst of breeze rush past her, and then: _Thwack._

It took her a moment to understand what had just happened. She watched, shocked, as a most beautiful blushing plum apple sunk to the bottom of the brook, not moving. Her eyes flew to Thor, who was rubbing his temple, pain etched on his face. She then turned her body, her hands dropping to her sides as she saw Loki.

Oh yes, now it was his turn to be Anger in the flesh. The usually pale boy now had splotches of faint pink displayed on his cheeks as he stomped furiously towards the pair in the brook. His top lip rose into what resembled a snarl as he reached the two. For a moment, none of them spoke, it was as if time had been frozen.

But then Thor shouted, looking quite upset at his brother, "What was that for?" His hands clutched his head in attempt to stop the pain that had come from Loki throwing what looked like to be a very heavy and very delicious plum apple.

Sif put her hands on her hips, a look of disapproval now displayed on her face, "Loki, that wasn't very nice to do to your own brother-"

Somehow Loki's next words that sprung to his lips were in the form of a hiss, yet somehow resembled a roar all at the same time: "Nice? _You're_ not nice."

A great force of momentum hit her, and she found herself tumbling to the ground. A small splash followed, and she felt instantly soaked to the bone. Again, it took her a moment to register what had just occurred: Loki had _pushed_ her.

She watched, dazed, as Loki then pivoted and ran away from the two, very clearly upset by the events that had just transpired. Then she found the feeling of sadness sink in her bones, just as the plum apple had sunk to the bottom of the water. She felt warmth as Thor gently took ahold of her arm in an attempt to help her up.

"Sif, I really am sorry about my brother. I'll be sure to tell father-"

She brushed his hand off her, and his words. Still somewhat confused about what had just happened, she then took a step back from him. She didn't want him touching her. She shook her head as she cried out, "I'm sorry, Thor but I really must be going."

She then turned and ran in the same direction she had watched Loki flee in. The wind that was artificially created due to her dashing off made her even colder, and the soaked fabric of her dress clung to her skin, making it quite difficult to run with any efficiency.

If she had turned to look behind her, she would have seen Thor's crestfallen face.

But alas, she didn't. Her only primary thought was to find Loki, and eventually she did. She discovered him in the same courtyard they had met earlier that year, in the same location too: the base of a wiry old tree. Somehow that seemed so poetic to her.

He was hunched over, his arms wrapped around his knees with his head bent. It was as if he was attempting to shut out the rest of the world. His shoulders slightly shook. Was he crying? Sif racked her brain, trying to remember if there was ever a time she had seen him cry. No time of that existed. Sif found herself at a loss of what to do. She had never seen him so upset.

The young girl sat beside him, their shoulders and knees almost touching. She ignored the fact that when she stood, dirt would be all over her wet dress. She ignored the fact that her own shoulders were shaking from the cold. Instead, she just waited in silence.

After what seemed like an eternity of silence he finally spoke, his voice croaking – proof that he truly had been crying, "You're supposed to be _my_ friend, not Thor's."

Her heart soared as she realized that at least he was talking to her still. She found herself taking his hands in her own, just as she had done with Thor earlier. His hands, she found, were cooler than Thor's, but smoother. She pushed that thought away and eagerly spoke, "Of course I am. You're my best friend."

His head no longer bent, he then looked at their hands for a moment before his eyes flickered to meet her own. The young boy looked at her with great suspicion, "Then why were you talking to Thor?"

She withheld the exasperated sigh that threatened to escape her lips. "Can't I be friends with you both?" she pleaded, her eyes begging him to say yes.

He looked away, his lips pursed. A sign that he was displeased. For a moment it seemed like he was actually contemplating her words, but then he finally shook his head, "No, Sif. You can't. You have to choose. You can't have two best friends, and you certainly can't be friends with both me and my brother."

She ignored the aching feeling that erupted in her chest and instead squeezed his hands with her own, "Then I choose you, Loki."

With that one simple sentence, she watched as Loki's demeanor transformed from one of sadness, to one of happiness. He smiled at her, his white, perfect teeth dazing her.

Yes, Loki was the obvious choice. He was the one that was friends with her when Thor didn't want her. He was the one that kept her company. He was the one who would climb tall trees to fetch her plum apples. Yes, he was clearly her best friend. He was the safest and obvious choice out of the two Odinson brothers, right?

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 **Author's Note:** Thoughts? What do you think about Sif and Thor? And Sif and Loki? Hopefully if there is still a community that enjoys reading this story, I will update next week or so. **Be so kind as to review, please?** I always enjoy reading them (they put a smile to my face), and always am curious about your thoughts and opinions.

 _\- The Painted Green Door_


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